The room felt colder than before.
Not because of the air—
But because of what was unfolding.
In the center of it all stood Anaya Sen… holding her head tightly, her breathing uneven.
"I've seen this before…" she whispered again.
Her voice didn't sound like her own anymore.
Across from her, Aryan Malhotra didn't move.
Didn't interrupt.
Because something in her tone told him—
This wasn't a lie.
This wasn't confusion.
This was real.
"Where?" he asked quietly.
Anaya tried to focus.
Tried to think.
But her mind felt… strange.
Foggy.
Broken.
"I… I don't know…"
She closed her eyes tightly.
And then—
A flash.
A room.
Dark.
Cold.
A man's voice—
"Hide it. No one should ever find it."
Another flash.
A younger version of herself.
Standing in a corner.
Watching.
Holding something small in her hand.
That same metal box.
Her breath hitched.
"Aryan…" she whispered.
"I remember something…"
He stepped closer immediately.
"What?"
Anaya's fingers trembled.
"I was… there…"
Her eyes slowly opened.
Filled with confusion.
"And my father…"
Her voice cracked.
"He wasn't alone…"
Aryan's expression hardened.
"Who else was there?"
Anaya tried to see the face.
Tried to remember.
But everything blurred again.
"I can't—"
Her body suddenly went weak.
The room spun around her.
Before she could fall—
Aryan caught her instantly.
"Anaya!"
His voice broke through the silence.
For the first time—
There was real fear in it.
He lifted her in his arms without hesitation.
Her head rested against his chest.
Her breathing shallow.
"Aryan…" she whispered faintly.
"I didn't lie…"
His jaw tightened.
"I know."
The words came out immediately.
Without doubt.
Without hesitation.
And that itself surprised him.
Because just minutes ago—
He wasn't sure.
But now…
Looking at her like this—
Broken.
Confused.
Lost—
He knew.
She wasn't pretending.
"She's burning up," one of the guards said from the door.
Aryan didn't even look at him.
"Call the doctor. Now."
His voice turned deadly calm.
The kind that didn't allow delay.
Minutes later—
Anaya lay on the bed in Aryan's private room.
Unconscious.
Her face pale.
Her fingers slightly curled into the sheets.
Aryan stood beside her.
Watching.
Not moving.
The doctor checked her pulse carefully.
"She's under stress," he said.
"And whatever was injected into her earlier…"
"…it's reacting."
Aryan's eyes darkened.
"Fix it."
The doctor swallowed.
"I'll try."
Try.
That word didn't sit well.
At all.
"Don't try," Aryan said quietly.
"Do it."
Silence fell instantly.
The doctor nodded quickly and continued treatment.
Time passed slowly.
Painfully.
Aryan didn't leave.
Didn't sit.
Didn't rest.
He just stood there.
Watching her.
Every breath.
Every small movement.
And for the first time—
He felt something unfamiliar.
Not anger.
Not control.
Fear.
Real fear.
Because for the first time in a long time—
There was something he couldn't control.
Suddenly—
Anaya moved.
A soft sound escaped her lips.
Aryan stepped closer immediately.
"Anaya?"
Her brows tightened slightly.
Like she was fighting something in her mind.
Then she whispered—
"Don't give it to him…"
Aryan froze.
"Who?"
But she didn't respond.
Her head moved slightly.
And then—
Another whisper.
So soft… but clear.
"Viktor…"
The name hung in the air.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
Aryan's eyes darkened instantly.
Because that meant only one thing—
She knew something.
Something important.
Something dangerous.
And if Viktor knew that too—
Then this war was far from over.
It was just beginning.